After what felt like an endless pregnancy, I gave birth to my rainbow baby on January 18, 2021. While everyone else was dealing with the challenges of 2020, I faced a unique set of struggles, including the pandemic, my first viable pregnancy, the loss of my father, and other heart-breaking moments. All the while, I was committed to keeping my baby safe, dodging the pandemic, and constantly questioning if he would come into this world in a safe and healthy manner.

Towards the end of my pregnancy, people kept commenting, “Are you ready? He’s almost here!” or “Any day now!” These comments made me anxious because I wasn’t prepared and was terrified of the unknown. I felt like it was safer to remain pregnant for a few more weeks than to embark on this new journey of motherhood and learn how to care for a newborn.

Everyone commented on how large my belly was, and they thought I’d enter labor early. Because of this, I wanted to at least reach my due date to show them. I didn’t have any Braxton Hicks contractions or feel anything that felt like labor was imminent.

But that’s precisely what happened. On Sunday, January 17, late in the day, I started feeling very tired and anxious. Around 6 am on January 18, I had my first contraction, which was more painful than regular cramps. I finally got up around 8 am and kept having the same strong cramping sensations from time to time. Panic mode was setting in.

Fer, my husband, happened to be off that day, and when he woke up, I told him, “So I think I’m in labor.” We packed our hospital bag and Fer made sure I ate something. My mother visited and sat with me while I worked through my contractions. When my contractions became more frequent and harder, I went to the hospital.

I was admitted to the hospital, and because of Covid, I could only have two support people with me. My mother had to go home because my sister was on her way over from the other coast of Florida to be with me during the birth.

As time passed, my water broke naturally, and when I couldn’t take the pain of the contractions anymore, I begged for the epidural. I pushed Alonso out at 11:59 pm on January 18. He weighed 7 lbs, 4 oz and was 19 inches long.

Alonso came out healthy and happy. We spent two nights in the hospital before being released to bring him home. We had picked the name Alonso because we wanted a name that made sense in Spanish and English and was less common. Our original middle name for Alonso was Gael, but after my dad died in November, Fer and I changed his middle name to my dad’s name. It just felt right to commemorate him in this way.

Giving birth was an incredible and difficult spiritual experience that was physically and psychologically demanding. Alonso Daniel, you have already taught me so much, and I look forward to learning from you and loving you for the rest of my days.